


Working Like A Dog

by ThayerKerbasy



Series: A Man and His Dog [3]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Canon Compliant, Episode: s09e21 King of the Damned, Gen, Juliet POV
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-17
Updated: 2017-01-17
Packaged: 2018-09-18 06:03:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,378
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9371336
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThayerKerbasy/pseuds/ThayerKerbasy
Summary: Juliet was stuck guarding the First Blade from anyone who might want to steal it.  Being a guard dog isn't all it's cracked up to be though.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mansikka](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mansikka/gifts).



Juliet had been guarding the magic bone knife for many nights and days. As he had promised, her master visited often, playing fetch in the graveyard whenever he could get away. He would sometimes guard the knife for her so that she could go on a hunt. Juliet sometimes wondered whether any other hound had such a good master. She thought not.

Of course there was that one time when he came to her smelling of the beer and cars and gunpowder and magic human that he called Dean. Her master’s association with that human concerned her. The man was a hunter and hunters were bad news for demons. Still, whenever her master was with Dean, he seemed to come back happier, so for now she was willing to let it slide.

Nights were long and days even longer. At night, at least she could hunt. The graveyard had never been so uninhabited by small furry things, but there was always something she could track down and kill. Still, it was a good thing that her master had been sending her on proper hunts when he could. A hound could not subsist on crows and raccoons alone.

The day things changed dawned like any other. The tiny night creatures that were too small to bother hunting scurried off to their homes to sleep. Little birds awoke and began singing their loud, annoyingly cheerful songs. The human who tended to the graveyard began his rounds, first checking to be sure nothing had been broken during the night, then starting his noisy grass cutting machine. After he had tended to the grave Juliet was sworn to protect, Juliet curled up atop it to rest. Not sleep - hellhounds required no sleep - but rest.

The sun was high in the sky when the demon came. It smelled of ambition and fresh blood and it wore the meat of a yellow-haired adolescent girl. Juliet watched in silence as the demon walked through the graveyard, clearly searching. Since she had spotted it early, Juliet was able to keep away from the demon, moving carefully within the shadows before it could get too close to spot her.

After it had made a thorough sweep of the graveyard, the demon called out, “Juliet! I’ve been sent to collect you. Crowley said you were guarding something special, but it’s time to go home.”

The temptation to go was strong. She missed seeing her master daily and she missed Hell. Something wasn’t quite right though. If her master wanted the bone knife, he would have come for it himself. There was no one - aside from Juliet - that he trusted with it, and he wouldn’t leave it unguarded. There was only one explanation that made any sense to Juliet; The demon sent to collect her must be working for Abaddon.

Her first instinct was to attack. As simple as breathing, she worked out the route she would follow to get close to the demon before she could kill it. But that was where her plans hit a snag. She imagined killing the demon, but then she imagined further. The demon would be expected to report back to Abaddon. If it was dead, they would know something was wrong. They would know to keep looking at the graveyard. If she killed the demon, they might send more. They might send too many for her to face on her own. If she killed it, she would fail at protecting the magic bone knife.

Reluctantly, Juliet concluded that she would have to let the demon live. She silently crept back into hiding, squeezing herself under a bush that had no business housing something as large as her. The shadow realm was sufficient to hide her from the sight of humans, but she needed actual cover to hide from demons. From under the bushes she watched the demon grow increasingly more frustrated. It tried coaxing, it tried threats, but in the end it finally left empty-handed. Satisfied, Juliet continued to watch the grave that hid her knife from under cover.

Day passed and gradually faded into night. There had been no further sign of demons, so when darkness fell, Juliet felt safe enough to emerge from her hiding spot. Her grave remained undisturbed. Careful investigation revealed no hint of demons anywhere nearby. The danger must have been over. Feeling reassured, Juliet began her nightly hunt of the local wildlife.

Some time later, with meat in her belly and a pile of bits to chew, Juliet heard a sound. It was coming from somewhere in the vicinity of her grave, so she took off running towards it. Words became clear enough to understand as she got closer. “-not _with_ a corpse but _in_ a corpse?”

That was Moose! The last time she had heard that voice, it was threatening her master, and now it was entirely too close to the knife. Digging deep, she put on another burst of speed. She had just reached the edge of the trees and the border of the cemetery proper when another voice reached her ears. Beer/cars/gunpowder/magic Dean said, “Gotta say, it’s not the first place I’d look. All right, here we go.”

She should have known that Moose would have Dean with him, but it complicated things. Her master seemed to consider Dean a friend or ally. He would be angry with her if she had to hurt him, but if she killed Moose, Dean would attack her and she would be forced to defend herself. But the grave was open and the box was out and her knife was in danger. She needed a plan.

To buy time, she growled, announcing her presence in a way that had never failed to put fear into mortal hearts. Moose looked around, trying to locate her, but she was safely hidden in her shadow form. “Dean?” he said, the first hints of fear in his voice. “Do you hear that?”

Dean stood and looked in the same direction, near her location and yet not. His voice was far more gratifying when he spoke, showing all the fear she would expect to hear from a mortal man hearing her growl. “I’m guessing hellhound.”

Their fear solidified a plan in her head. She could chase them away from the knife. There was not a mortal alive who could outrun a hellhound. Confident, she growled again, throwing in a bark for good measure. That seemed to decide things for Dean, who turned to run and told Moose, “Go. Go!”

Juliet barked and growled and snarled, all while chasing the pair at an easy pace, staying just far enough behind them to keep them scared. Rather than run away from the graveyard like she had expected, they ran into one of the building things that housed dead people and barred the door behind them. Didn’t they know they were supposed to run away? She could have broken down the gate, given time, but that wasn’t what she wanted. They needed to leave. Frustrated, she launched herself at the gate, just as she would if she were trying to kill them.

Then Dean took a thing from his pocket, touched it with his fingers, held it to his head and talked to it. “Dammit Crowley, the grave is guarded!”

The very idea of her master being in such a tiny box was infuriating. Juliet redoubled her efforts to break down the gate, if only so she could chase these creatures away. After a brief pause, Dean said, “A hellhound!”

That’s right, she was a hellhound and she was going to show them just how frightening a hellhound could be. She probably could have clawed Moose through the bars, but instead she nosed his hand and growled louder, barking as close to his head as she could while still trying to force the gate. From behind Moose came Dean’s voice again, “The hell she was!”

It was taking all of Moose’s strength to hold the gates closed. He would break soon, she could tell. He tried to get Dean’s attention by shouting, “Guys! GUYS!”

Bafflingly, Dean’s response was to say, “I’m gonna put you on speaker!”

He touched the little box again with a little _beep_ sound. Then, from the little box and sounding far away, came her master’s voice, “Juliet? It’s Papa.”

It was true! How did her master get inside that little box? It must have been magic. Juliet whimpered at the thought of her master trapped inside such a tiny box. His voice then said, “Stand down.”

Whatever her complaint, whatever her orders, that was never to be argued. Stand down meant stop, no more guarding, no more killing, no more anything. Stand down was go back to Hell. She wanted desperately to protest, but Juliet was a good dog and good dogs don’t argue when told to stand down. With another whimper, she left. From the little box, her master’s voice said, “You’re welcome.”

Perhaps that meant Dean was working for her master? Maybe he had convinced Moose that her master should not be attacked? Oh! Maybe that meant it was time for the knife to be brought to her master so that he could kill Abaddon! And it wasn’t safe for him to get it himself because of all of Abaddon’s minions, so he sent a pair of mortals. Her master was so clever!

While she was under orders to return to Hell, Juliet decided to push her orders, just a little bit. She wanted to watch the men to see what they would do. Of course, she couldn’t interfere, no matter what they did, but she wanted to _know_. She watched in silence as Dean sliced open the rotted meat, then listened to the pair argue over who should pick up the knife. Moose seemed concerned that the knife might not be safe for Dean to touch. Given that the knife and Dean smelled like the same kind of magic, she could believe it.

In the end, Moose picked up the rotted meat-coated magic knife and held it away from him in disgust. But Dean was the one to confirm Juliet’s suspicions. He patted Moose on the shoulder and said, “Well, let’s go kill a Knight of Hell, huh?”

There was only one Knight of Hell left. They were going to take the blade to her master so they could be rid of Abaddon once and for all. Then Juliet could claim her rightful place as Queen of Hell. There was the small problem of her master being inside a small box held by Dean, but she was confident that if he truly needed help, he would call her. It must be a new way for him to keep tabs on his mortal allies without being spotted by Abaddon’s demons. Juliet was so proud of her master. Feeling reassured as to the safety of her charge, Juliet slipped through the shadows back to Hell.

It had been so long since she was last in Hell. Everything had been orderly when she left. In her absence, things had changed. Torturers were torturing, sure, but when she had left it was a more orderly torture. Now some were using her master’s techniques while others had reverted to the old ways. There was nobody in the throne room when she cautiously peeked her head in. A pile of papers had accumulated around the throne.

Less certain than before, Juliet tracked down the soft bed that her master had prepared for her so long ago. It was a simple matter to drag the bed over to her favourite shadowed corner. When she curled up on her bed where it had always been before, it was like nothing had changed. She was able to close her eyes and pretend her master was conducting business in the throne room, and that he would be returning soon.

She didn’t know how much time had passed - time was for mortal things - but she opened her eyes when she felt a hand on her head. The hand smelled of smoke and Scotch and traces of human blood, but also smelled strongly of magic. Juliet opened her eyes and saw her master, a hole in his suit, a smattering of blood clinging to his clothes and skin, but his demonic true form alight with happiness and welcome. He spread his arms wide and said, “Hello Juliet. Papa’s home.”

That did it. Juliet sprang out of her bed, put her paws on her master’s shoulders, and thoroughly licked his face. He wasn’t dead or stuck in a tiny box, he was in Hell where he belonged. Everything was as it should be.

Some time later - days or months or whatever mortals counted in Hell - Juliet’s life had returned to some semblance of normality. She played fetch with her master, and tug of war, and even went on one glorious hunt. Life was good. Her master was trying to bring order back to Hell, dealing with the mountain of paperwork and the backlog of petitioners one thing at a time. He was at his happiest when he was playing with Juliet.

Then it happened. Her master was getting ready to go to his throne room to hear from unhappy demons, as he did every day, when he frowned. He looked thoughtful. Then the creases in his forehead eased and he tilted his head like he had an idea. “Juliet?” he said. “How would you like to go to work with Papa? Sit with me in the throne room? I could put your bed in the corner and you could watch me work. You could even sit beside me if you promised to be good. Would you like that, sweetheart?”

Juliet wanted very much to bowl her master over in her happiness. She was determined to show she could be good though, and that had to start right away. Sitting up straight, she held up a paw and waited. She had seen mortals seal deals by “shaking hands”. Her master accepted her paw in both of his hands, his mouth curving up at the corners. Then, deal accepted, Juliet solemnly licked his face once. Because everyone knew that to seal a deal properly, there had to be a kiss.

**Author's Note:**

> This story practically wrote itself. I thought it would take a lot longer than it did, but I swear, Juliet wrote most of this. Thank you to everyone who encouraged me to delve back into Juliet's delightful persona again. You were right, she did have more to say.
> 
> As always, if you enjoyed what you read, please leave me comments and kudos to tell me so. This fic is only here because of the comments that asked for more. And if you're so inclined, I can be found on Tumblr where I'm @thayerkerbasy


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